Biggest Mistake

*NOTE: WYLEI is much different from Labeled(if you're coming from reading that first). So I'm warning you straight up before you start. It's darker, it's vulgar, and you may not like him right now.

7/18/2019 : UPDATED with slight changes.

A loud bang jolts me from my slumber, my eyes shoot open and it's an instant mistake. I squeeze them shut, hoping that it'll help ease the pain but it doesn't work. I groan out, and peek open my right eye. Too bright, the room is too fucking bright. "Fuckkk." I hiss out, throwing my arm over my head. A soft whimper comes from my left, even though I'm sure I have company, I reach a hand out any ways then quickly snatch it back when it connects with something soft. Ah. So that wasn't a dream, I vaguely remember a girl with a tattoo on her lower back riding my dick last night. I lift my head slowly, leaving my arm to shield my eyes from the intruding light. The blonde is on her stomach, completely butt naked, and yep, there's the tramp stamp. The curtains to the front window are wide open, giving anyone an full view of the hotel room, and our naked bodies. I wonder if we gave anyone a good show last night. This girl was a freak, whoever she is.

I move slowly, like a fucking snail, until I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. My sunglasses sit near an empty bottle of Jameson on the night stand, I quickly slip the glasses onto my nose. It helps a little. There's a few empty foil wrappers littering the floor. Huh. I don't remember. But I do know I need to get out of here before she wakes up. My head is pounding but I force myself to gather my clothing from around the room, but I don't see my boxers. Where the fuck are they? I freeze when I hear shifting of the sheets, and glance towards the bed, not moving as if she'd hear my movements. She remains asleep, but she's covered her body. I remain still, silently scanning the room for my missing boxers. Fuck it. I slip on my pants, sans boxers, quick pull on my shirt and stuff my socks in my pockets. My wallet and keys are in my pockets where I left them, I step into my shoes and get my ass out of the room.

As soon as I'm in the drivers seat of my Volvo, a car I want to fucking burn, I peel out of the seedy motel parking lot. Clenching my jaw at the memories swarming in my mind. I huff in annoyance and replay the performance of last night. I take the ramp to the highway, looking in my rear view for cars and press on the gas. I weave my car through Sunday morning traffic. "Fucking Move!" I yell at the cars that are in my way, but then instantly regret yelling out. I need coffee.

I cut across two lanes and take the exit to my hometown, a few blaring horns behind me. Yeah, I don't fucking care. The main street of the small town I grew up in appears in front of me. While this has been my home for so long, even though over a year ago I had made a home in the city, I never expected that this small town be my saving grace. Thankfully she didn't ruin this for me. I pull into the small strip of shops, one that includes a quaint new coffee shop.

The perfect aroma of coffee beans invades my sense of smell, there's no line, so the young girl greets me behind the counter. "What can I get you sir?"

"Coffee. Black."

Once paid, coffee in hand, I waltz out of the shop. The sight of my car irks me, and I know the first thing I'm doing tomorrow.

XXX

I pull my car into an empty spot aside of my brother's place. My current place of residence, even though I have a beautiful condo in the city, but I won't be stepping foot in that place again.

V's on me, like a mother hen, as soon as I step foot through the door. "Victor! Oh my gosh! Where have you been?" she rushes toward me, engulfing me in a hug.

"Out." I clip.

"Oh. You stink." she steps back, her slim features scrunched up in disgust.

I shrug, not caring, cause I don't. I collapse onto the sofa.

"Why is your phone off?" V asks.

I shrug. Maybe it died. I don't even know.

"Melissa has resorted to calling me since you refuse to talk to her. She doesn't know where you are, and I didn't inform her, but she's threatening to show up at mom and dad's."

"The fuck.." I mutter. Mom and Dad are not aware of the shit storm that has become my life, and for now, I'd like to keep it that way. She's backed me into a fucking corner. "I'll call her then."

"You should talk to them, they would understand."

I hear what she's saying, but don't respond. This wasn't how my life was suppose to go, and it was going so well. Almost perfectly. Perfect paying job with a man who treated me like a son, because technically I was his son in the eyes of 'god'. What I thought was the perfect woman, with a career orientated mind like myself. The perfect place to live. Now I find myself sleeping on a futon in a room the size of a shoe box.

"You know you can talk to me right?" V's voice is low, trying to be comforting and it pisses me off. I don't want pity or to be coddled. I want to be left the fuck alone.

"I don't want to fucking talk V, stop trying to be Mom." I snap. Refusing to look at V, knowing I hurt her feelings but she just needs to back off and give me space. I need to shower. "I'm going to shower." I stand up and leave the room.

I mentally make a list of things I need to do as soon as possible. I need to find my own place. I need to contact a realtor. I have to call my lawyer. I need to find a new job. I need..I need..I need.

I need a fucking drink. My shower is quick, the anger still at the surface, my hands shake as I dry myself off with a towel.

When I showed up at Vance's place a few days ago, they questioned me relentlessly and I went through what happened that night as if it was happening to someone else. But it's a movie reel replaying in my head, in a constant painful loop. The image of Melissa and another man burned into my memory, it caused me pain at first, the pain has turned into anger.

It's the typical cliché of the husband coming home early from work to find his wife being banged by someone other than him. In my situation, it was my asshole of a co-worker who had her bent over our fucking couch. I was sent into a  rage, it was scary, the emotion completely foreign to me. I remember Melissa's face of surprise, grabbing the blanket to cover herself, as if I was a stranger and not her husband. I remember lunging for Mitch, I remember hitting him, I remember hearing Melissa's screaming and her pleas for me to stop. Her stupid sobs made me halt. I couldn't understand why she was crying, and I didn't care. Mitch was laying on the floor, his face covered in blood, and I knew I had to leave before I started hitting him again. The anger returning full force.

The calls started the next day, which was a surprise. When I wouldn't answer the texts started. I didn't bother to listen to the voice mails, what the fuck could she possibly have to say? The texts were apologies, and asking for me to call her. I turned my phone off, not caring. I drank myself to sleep that night. I did, however, contact HR the following morning and inform them I was going on a Leave of Absence. When asked for how long, I said two weeks, even though it was going to be indefinitely. I have enough in my savings to survive on, thank fuck we never combined bank accounts. Greg called and when I didn't answer left a message, hoping all was okay. It figures that Melissa wouldn't inform him of her infidelity.

Vance took me out to a bar the next night, and when a pretty little red head sizzled up to my side, I didn't stop myself from flirting, and I didn't stop myself from fucking her up against the bathroom stall an hour later. Burying my dick into another willing women was liberating, it felt amazing, in more ways than one. The next night I went out again, when I fucked a hot chick behind the brick building. It'll end the same way tonight.

I open the bathroom door to silent whispers coming from the living room, with the towel wrapped around my waist, I make my way down the hall stopping just at the opening.

"He was so mean Vance." V's voice is sad, sending a punch to my gut.

"He's going through shit, V." Vance's voice is low, just above a whisper.

"I just.." V pauses, "I hate seeing him like this. I don't like seeing him go out every night and not knowing if he's okay, then coming home the next morning smelling like cheap hookers."

"He needs to deal with this in his own way, he'll get through this." Vance pulls V to his chest, kissing the top of her head in brotherly love.

"I hate her." V whispers.

"We all do." Vance returns, his eyes meeting mine, which surprises me. I nod my head, and move back towards my brothers room. I don't have any clothes, which is something I have to do soon; go get my things. But until then, I've been borrowing his clothing.

When I walk out into the living room, Vance is sitting in his chair, and I can see V in the kitchen. "Going out?" Vance asks. "Yeah."

"You just got back!" V says coming into the room. I keep my eyes on the tv, not wanting to look into her eyes, knowing that she's disgusted with me. Right now, it's the only way I feel like I can cope on how my life has turned out. It's a phase, I tell myself. I move towards her, and place a kiss on the top of her head, just like Vance did. "Yeah, I'll be back later." I tell her and walk out of the door.

I never called Melissa.

Welp. There is the first chapter. Penny for your thoughts? I hope you enjoyed it!

Like I said, it's much different from Labeled but I'm super excited to be starting this story. I have all my ideas, I just hope I can execute it accurately. If you feel this is not something for you, I can understand.

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